


Little Disasters

by stephanieh



Series: Keep the Coat [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2811485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanieh/pseuds/stephanieh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has a bad day (which is entirely the fault of his confuscating not-quite-boyfriend) and Thorin tries his very best to make it up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Disasters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trialia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia/gifts).



> To Trialia: for your feelings.

Bilbo was walking down the street on his way to Advanced Middle English when he was hit in the face with a particularly icy snowball. He was sent stumbling backwards and his feet caught on the low hanging fence, which tangled with his ankles as he toppled over completely. Watching the pages of his paper, which was due in about ten minutes, flutter out onto the snowy field in the breeze he knew today was not going to be a good day.

Hearing a concerned voice somewhere in the vicinity of above he sought to make any and all witnesses to his misfortune disappear as soon as possible by insisting, "I'm fine, I'm fine, just took a little tumble is all, I've suffered much worse, I assure you- no need to worry about me."

"That was no 'little tumble'," a very deep, very _familiar_ voice rumbled. "I'm surprised you're even conscious."

"Thorin," Bilbo whimpered. Oh, no, this could not be happening.

Thorin chuckled, crouching in front of Bilbo to examine his face which, Bilbo realized suddenly, felt strangely sticky. "Good to see you again, as well."  

Oh dear, he didn't say that last bit out loud did he? This was getting better by the minute. Bilbo groaned quietly as he attempted to mop up some of the blood streaming out of his nose with his jacket sleeves. Where was a handkerchief when you needed one? Meanwhile Thorin unzipped his coat and pulled open his flannel shirt to reveal a thermal, out of which he ripped a strip of cloth. He handed it to Bilbo, who took it dubiously. He was charmed that Thorin would sacrifice his shirt for Bilbo's bleeding nose, but also slightly disgusted. He doubted this was sanitary medical practice.

"Is that your paper," Thorin asked, looking pained as he gazed out at the wide field, where twenty-three sheets of paper were scattered atop the wet snow.

"Ah, yes, but it's fine," Bilbo muttered.

Thorin shot him an irritable glance. "You should stop saying things are fine when they obviously are not."

Bilbo couldn't help but laugh a bit at that, conceding that Thorin was probably right. After all, it was likely he would fail his midterm if that paper didn't make it to his teacher's desk two minutes ago.... but what was done was done. Maybe if he showed up frozen and bleeding the professor would be willing to forgive him.

"Alright there, laddie?" a thickly accented voice came from behind him. Bilbo twisted around to lay eyes on what was possibly the most intimidating man he'd ever encountered personally.

"Um," Bilbo stated.

"I'm going to take him to the hospital," Thorin informed the newcomer.

"Oi," Bilbo squeaked, trying to push himself to his feet only to be shoved back down by both Thorin and his friend. "I am not going to the hospital, I am going to class!"

"Don't wait up, Dwalin," Thorin continued as if Bilbo hadn't spoken.

Resisting the urge to kick Thorin in the shin like a petulant child, Bilbo allowed himself to be assisted to his feet. "Really, I'm _fine_ ," Bilbo started, and Thorin glared at him again. "It's just a nose bleed, honestly, I'll be right as rain in a few minutes."

Thorin looked at him suspiciously, taking in Bilbo's otherwise unscathed appearance. Bilbo huffed unhappily under his examination, earning him a small smile. Seeing that Bilbo wasn't in any pain, and therefore was probably speaking the truth, Thorin conceded that probably really was _fine_. This time. "At least let me walk you to class," he offered, looking to Bilbo for approval before falling into step beside him.

"Who was it that threw that snowball, anyhow," Bilbo wondered aloud as they walked.

Thorin was silent, but his look of shame spoke volumes.

"Oh, you absolute jerk," Bilbo gasped, giving Thorin a gentle shove. "You could've given me a concussion with that thing."

"I'm sorry," Thorin replied promptly, sounding very much so, and making the most effective puppy-dog eyes Bilbo had seen since Primula broke her grandmother's favorite tea cup.

"So long as you've learned your lesson," Bilbo told him.

"Always throw the hardest snowballs at close range?"

Bilbo laughed in spite of himself, smacking Thorin's arm again playfully. Thorin grinned at him.

When they arrived at the computer lab, where Bilbo intended to reprint his paper before heading to class, he expected Thorin to leave him at the door. Instead he followed him inside, holding open the door, which was labeled with a big sign that stated only 'library levels' of speaking were allowed inside. Thorin leaned casually on the desk beside him Bilbo logged on to the computer, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk as the system booted up.

Bilbo nearly jumped when Thorin leaned in closely, his lips nearly brushing Bilbo's ear as he whispered, "Let me make this up to you." Bilbo shot him an irritable glance and Thorin merely smirked. "We're having an early christmas party at Dwalin's brother's flat tonight. Will you come?"

Bilbo swallowed, nodding briefly, resisting the urge to chase the warmth of Thorin's almost-touch as he moved away.

The two shared a smile as Thorin took his leave, leaving Bilbo to print his paper and hopefully get to class before any other catastrophe could befall him.

 

Bilbo stood alone in the corner of a spacious loft, sipping on something sweet that he had forgotten the name of and trying to stop feeling like a teenager hiding on the sidelines at a school dance. He was _not_ hiding. He was simply waiting…. Waiting until he spotted someone he knew to wade out into the crowd. Yes, it was a perfectly sensible plan. Nothing wrong with a bit of sense in any plan, as his father says.

"Why are you hiding in the corner," a voice came from beside him.

He jumped in spite of himself, cursing quietly as he turned to Thorin. "I was not ' _hiding'_ ," Bilbo defended. "I was just… biding my time. Until I saw someone familiar."

"Seems as though you're in luck then," Thorin replied smartly as his eyes drifted down to Bilbo's attire. He was wearing a christmas sweater that his mother had made it for him last winter. It was a bright evergreen color with little red reindeer lining the collar and sleeves. Bilbo, in turn, noted Thorin's smart looking grey sweater which might as well have been tailored for him specifically. He blushed, feeling horribly childish next to someone in such businesslike attire when a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"I like your sweater," Thorin told him, sounding perfectly sincere. "Was it made for you?"

"Yes," Bilbo replied. "My mother… she knits. I thought it would be… festive."

Thorin hummed, his thumb rubbing little circles on Bilbo's arm. His whole body relaxed into the gesture.

"She is a very talented woman," Thorin said seriously. "I'm afraid I would not know one end of a knitting needle from the other."

Bilbo imagined Thorin, in his rich grey sweater, sitting by the fire in his mother's rocking chair, knitting mittens while the cat purred on his lap. "Don't ever let her hear you say that, otherwise you'll find yourself with more kitted wear than you know what to do with."

Thorin smiled warmly, letting his hand drop.

"Oh, your coat!" Bilbo cried. "I completely forgot to bring it to return to you. Had it laid out and everything…"

Thorin laughed at Bilbo's distress. "It's fine," he assured him. "I have other coats. There is no hurry- keep it for as long as you like."

Bilbo blushed and swirled his drink around in its cup. 

Thorin cleared his throat. "Um... did your professor accept your paper late?"

"Oh," Bilbo said, having almost forgot about the incident which had landed him at this party in the first place. "Yes, yes- he did. Apparently my bloody nose was enough to convince him I was telling the truth."

Thorin looked contrite. "Good," he murmured. "I am very sorry about... that. Your nose, I mean."

Bilbo rubbed said nose self-consciously as Thorin gazed at him. 

"Don't be, it was a perfect accident," Bilbo assured him.

"Still," Thorin insisted. "It had to have hurt."

"It's nothing I can't handle," Bilbo insisted, pulling away from Thorin's heavy gaze to take a long gulp of his drink- only to discover that his cup was empty. Thorin smiled and placed his hand on Bilbo's shoulder, guiding him out into the thick of the party in the direction of the makeshift bar. As they moved through the crowd, what felt like a brick wall collided with Bilbo, sending him tumbling backwards into Thorin's arms. The two clung to each other, swaying precariously until they regained their balance.

"Sorry, laddie," said the man, whose name was Dwalin, Bilbo recalled. "Didn't see you there."

Dwalin sauntered off into the crowd, looking far less intoxicated than he had a second ago. 

Bilbo, clinging to Thorin's chest as he stumbled, decided he hated Dwalin.

Realizing they were still holding each other, Thorin and Bilbo untangled quickly, both blushing now as they continued on their way to get Bilbo a refill.

 

The hours ticked by and Bilbo learned that college parties were not at all like they were in the movies. There was no one climbing on tables chugging alcohol, no one all but having sex on the dance floor. The crowd might've been a bit loud for Bilbo's taste, but it was all in good spirit. Then again, he told himself, it was likely this was just a better group than most. Best not go to just any party on campus just because this one was nice.

Thorin introduced Bilbo to a man named Bofur, one of Thorin's fellow geology majors. Bilbo and him became fast friends, joking and telling stories animatedly while Thorin stood by, listening with an amused expression and occasionally pitching in with a story of his own. When Thorin and Bofur became wrapped up in a discussion about minerals which was much to specialized for Bilbo, he struck out on his own and met Ori- a freshman like himself, with a passion for literature which rivaled Bilbo's own. Bilbo and Ori were deep in a discussion about how his mother managed to knit such small reindeer so evenly when they were rejoined by Thorin. Ori seemed a bit intimidated at first, but he quickly warmed up to him with Bilbo's assistance.

By the time the clock struck twelve, Bilbo felt it had been a night well spent, despite the direction the day had started in. And if his nose still tweaked a bit when he set his face a certain way, well- he wasn't about to make Thorin feel any worse than he obviously already did. After all, he had gotten an invitation to this party out of it, which was infinitely better than spending another night alone in his dorm with his snoring roommate and his endless essays.

Fun or no, it was best he call it a night if he hoped to make it back home at all before tomorrow morning. Wouldn't want too much of a good thing to spoil it, after all. He was just about to announce his intention to catch the last bus back to campus when he happened to look outside the window for the first time in hours.

"Oh no," Bilbo whined, pressing himself against the glass to gaze out at the solid few feet of snow which had fallen in such a short time. Had that all really happened since he last looked outside?

"What is it," Thorin inquired. He came to the window and let out a low whistle. "You took the bus here, you said?"

"I did. You don't suppose they'll have salted the roads ahead of time do you? Plowed and all that?"

Thorin scoffed. "Definitely not. The culture in this valley tends more towards acceptance of our fate rather than trying to fight the elements. They won't bother clearing the roads until tomorrow morning at the earliest."

"Brilliant. This day has just been one disaster after another," Bilbo fretted, thinking of the clothes he had left in the washer and wondering if he had left any lights on. Thorin turned to look at him but Bilbo was too distracted to catch his crestfallen expression.

The two stood at the window, admiring the vast capability of nature to interfere in a plan with such swiftness for a moment before Bilbo spoke. "Well," he stated brightly. "If I'm to make it home sometime before sunrise, I best start walking now. It's been lovely, Thorin, really- thank you for the invitation."

He brushed past a stricken-looking Thorin towards the door, figuring if he didn't spot Bofur or Ori on his way out then he would see them around campus sometime... only to be stopped in his tracks by Thorin, who threw himself in between Bilbo and the door like a barricade. 

"Are you mad," Thorin protested, looking equal parts flustered and amused. "You are not walking home in two feet of snow. You can stay here until tomorrow morning. The buses ought to be running by then."

"What," Bilbo chirped, feeling petulant, sleepy, and generally tired of being bossed around. "I will do no such thing! That would be terribly rude, and I didn't even bring a change of clothes or anything!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Balin won't mind you staying over- and it's not like anyone else is mad enough to go outside in this weather! All these people will be staying here tonight. Besides, I am not going to let you leave," Thorin replied, sticking out his chin stubbornly.

The two glared at each other, teeth grinding, attracting several curious looks from the crowd.

Bilbo finally caved, sighing forlornly and fretting over the imposition they would all be, staying the night- unbeknownst to the owner of this flat as it may be. Where would he sleep? He didn't have a spare change of clothes, his nightly dose of medicine... or a toothbrush, even! But he hardly had much of a choice with Thorin literally blocking the way, did he? 

"Fine," Bilbo cried, throwing his hands in the air. " _Fine_ , but as soon as the buses start running, I'll be on my way."

Thorin smirked- an expression that should be illegal, Bilbo thought- and led him back into the party, where he immersed himself in the wearying social calls of the seemingly endless sea of people until the names and faces of the crowd all blurred together.  He doubted he made very good company by the time it was three in the morning, when everything finally, finally quieted down. 

Thorin was right in saying that many of the visitors were trapped by the snow, and that they had far fewer scruples about propriety than Bilbo. There were bodies strewn everywhere- on the floor, under and on the tables, piled on the sofas, even reclined on the stairs. Just as Bilbo was looking around, slightly lost as to where he should lay, Thorin appeared. He smiled, guiding Bilbo with a hand on his shoulder, chuckling at his half-asleep state. Bilbo was too tired to care where they were going- until they arrived at the unoccupied loveseat in the far corner of the room.

Thorin gestured to it silently, obviously expecting Bilbo to be the one to sleep there. 

Bilbo pointed to Thorin, and swept his hand towards the seat in the same forceful invitation to take the chair. 

Thorin, obstinate as ever, crossed his arms, shaking his head and gesturing firmly between Bilbo and the seat. 

Bilbo barely restrained himself from stomping his foot, frowning stormily at Thorin. He was certainly not going to be the one caving _this_ time. Thorin would have to learn to bend or break if they were to keep this up.

At an impasse, the two glared at each other haughtily for a length of time before Thorin finally rolled his eyes, sweeping Bilbo up into his arms, placing himself in the loveseat and Bilbo on top of him.

Bilbo stiffened, unsure of where to place his legs or put his hands or where to lay his head, befuddled by the sudden intimacy. Thorin was a warm and inviting presence beneath him, his body strangely cozy for someone so skinny, not at all pointy or hard with muscle although there certainly was muscle there, certainly…

"Stop thinking," Thorin whispered, running a big, warm hand over Bilbo's shoulders, coming to rest at the small of his back. "Sleep."

Bilbo raised himself just enough to look Thorin in the eyes, their noses practically brushing as he whispered back, vehemently, "Have I told you what a terrible tease you are?"

"How is this teasing?" Thorin inquired sweetly. Bilbo pinched his side. Thorin chuckled before moving forward to lay a kiss firmly on Bilbo's lips.

His nose bumped Bilbo's as they separated, causing Bilbo to yelp in pain. Thorin glared at Bilbo with considerable irritation taking into account the man was also rubbing his back comfortingly with guilt look in his eyes.

"It's fine," Bilbo whispered, and Thorin growled. "Okay, so maybe it hurts a bit."

Thorin's irritation turned apologetic as he cuddled Bilbo closer, tucking his face into the crook of his neck, whispering nonsense about how sorry he was into the sensitive skin. Bilbo giggled a bit, pushing away when Thorin's short beard started to tickle.

"Sleep," Bilbo whispered, giggling as he surrendered to the inviting warmth of the strong body beneath him and squeezing his arms tightly around Thorin's middle.

Thorin took his advice to heart. He was snoring quietly within minutes, his hands draped lazily around Bilbo's waist. Listening to the sound of the sleeping house around him, watching the snowflakes drift down from the deep blue sky, and christmas lights twinkling here and there around the wide loft, Thorin's heartbeat was a steady, slow rhythm beneath his ear- Bilbo felt warm and full with good company and good spirits.

Today didn't turn out to be half bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I love the trope of "bilbo has a bad day" because that's pretty much the entirety of canon.


End file.
